An End In Light
by Scarabbug
Summary: “He remembers the silence. A corner of his mind that wasn’t his own and which it wasn’t really safe to enter, but where he’d still be welcomed, nonetheless.” Post Final series Musing. Yugi POV. One shot.


**This fic is heavily inspired by a fanfiction by LightningFlash8 who in turn was inspired by the annoying prevalence of "this character will wilt away without that character even though she/he's just happy they're free" stories in that particular section. All _Spirited_ _Away_ fans are advised to go check it out and enjoy. You'll know it when you see it; it's the only Spirited Away fanfic in her collection. **

**Standard other disclaimers apply.

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_"This isn't the tale of a great Pharaoh. Everyone has his own story. This story may be ending, but my story is just beginning."_

**_- Yugi Mutou, The Final Duel, (The Tale Comes to an End in Light)._**

An End In Light. 

He remembers the silence. The way it was always dimly lit in there, and sometimes cold. A corner of his mind that wasn't his own, but where he'd still be welcomed, nonetheless.

He remembers the exchanges. (Not the earliest ones –he never remembered those. He didn't remember perfectly the things the pharaoh did in the days before Yugi was aware of him, but he knew the pharaoh tried to protect him and… that was good, wasn't it?) He recalls all the times they changed places in his body when nobody even realises, not even Yugi himself. The transformation from quietly concerned student to the ever confident king-of-games.

He remembers (though only vaguely) the smell of burning alcohol and chloroform, the ricochet of bullets against a wall, the multicoloured brightness of balloons and exploding carriages. As hard as he tries, his memory of those particular, pre-duelling days never gets much clearer than that, but he tries to recall them now and then, all the same.

He remembers the day he woke up and knew the pharaoh was there. And the day he woke up and found that he wasn't. He remembers his promises. None of which had ever been broken. Except for one, that was, and Yugi really didn't mind about that one.

He remembers Joey once wrapping his arms around the pharaoh from behind. The sudden sense of shock rising up inside their chest, until Yugi told him it was okay and he let himself relax into the unexpected hug/headlock.

He remembers Orichalcos with its burning green light leaving marks across the skin of his soul. He remembers the paralysing feeling of existing, but having no form. He remembers the sense of guilt and terror that ripped between him and the pharaoh in the precious few seconds it took the Seal to do its job and tear Yugi's soul from his body. He remembers coming back to find Téa's arms wrapped around his neck and Yami's presence, like a long forgotten warmth resting within him.

He remembers duelling in a sacred tomb, the Millennium Stone shattering and sending gold pieces falling to the ground. He remembers a grateful thumbs up as a silent message in the glaring white of an opening doorway.

He remembers the Pharaoh's presence brushing across his shoulders as a young boy reaches out to take the _Winged Kuriboh_ card cautiously from Yugi's hand. He remembers a soft nod of approval that wasn't really there, but could not be denied existence nonetheless, as the boy's face breaks into a grin.

He remembers the way it feels to go crazy and start trying to talk back to a pharaoh who he'd known, all along, wasn't there any longer, not even in spirit. He remembers realising that all these impressions are just his own imagination, and then deciding he doesn't care in the slightest. He remembers Téa telling him that just because Yami isn't _there_ anymore, it doesn't mean that Yugi can't talk to him and remember him as often as he needs.

So Yugi keeps remembering.

He remembers going out to buy olives and ending up saving the world instead. He remembers feeling Yami right there besides him as the Shadow Realm raises its ugly head and casts its rage over all of Domino. He remembers the almost mind-crushing sensation of justice as the fool who messed with a game far too powerful for him to comprehend is locked away in the shadows by his own ill will. He remembers crying out in joy when Tristan's body started breathing again. The pharaoh right there besides him, throughout it all. Crying the same tears and sealing the same misguided evil.

Yugi remembers him again the day he gives up his deck, to be put on display at Kaiba's Academy, knowing that he will never return to claim it back. He remembers the feeling of the pharaoh reaching out to tough the glass pane of the window before Yugi left it forever.

He remembers Yami clutching his shoulders, that time he called Bakura and Joey in the middle of the night (his time, anyway), just to drag them both out to Australia and help him defeat as hoard of sandworms trying to decimate an aboriginal shrine and everyone who lived within five hundred miles of it. He remembers them both sitting with him afterwards, exhaustedly watching the sun rise. The pharaoh's serious nature reflected in the glow of the soft red light.

He remembers a feeling of intense frustration plastered across His Other's face when he leaves the last duel card he owns in a hotel somewhere in Los Angeles. He remembers returning to the room and never finding it.

He remembers returning home to Domino after four years away and the feeling of intense relief that Yugi couldn't quite say was entirely his own when they found Grandpa wide awake and complaining about the food in the local Hospital. And then he remembered, with far greater intensity, the way the relief broke into pieces when the hospital called him in the middle of the night with their usual condolences. He remembers the non-present pharaoh's rage that they hadn't known sooner.

He remembers the funeral with tears that never hit the ground. He remembers the same numbness he felt the time it was him, lost in the shadow realm, drained away to all but nothing.

He remembers meeting her there, feeling her hold onto him the same way she always used to. He remembered her sticking around for so many months after she should have gone home to America. He remembered her smiling and another presence quietly closing its eyes and looking away the first time she leaned forwards to kiss him.

He even remembers the pharaoh standing stiff and nervous in the back of his mind, trying to stay well out of the way, on the day that it was Rebecca who needed holding and reminding than the man who raised her was in a better place than anywhere on earth.

He remembered a laughing presence in his mind during the totally unnecessary omiai, taken only for the sake of his famil's tradition. Revenge, Yugi thinks, for a time so long ago when Yugi had made _him_ do the very same thing. '_Yugi what are you… I… this isn't a duel_!' and neither is this, Yugi thinks, but Rebecca can sure as anything make it feel like one. A soft, silent, non-physical sense of encouragement as Rebecca tosses pebbles in the pool and trips over her Kimono.

He remembers a trip to Egypt long after he vowed he'd never go there again, feeling the heat on his face and the distant sound of a million people cheering, his heart pounding at a situation he hadn't been prepared for. Then he remembers waking up to find himself lying on a sand dune, Rebecca crying and making him promise not to scare her so badly ever again if he didn't want to regret it.

He remembers not even crying when the end finally came in the Gulf of Mexico, when one too many Demons faced one too few strong, good heroes and Yugi paid the price for it. He remembered Yami's apology as he reached out and for the first time in fifty years, took Yugi's hand carefully in his own. Then he remembers Yami letting it go again, pushing him back into the world of the living as Joey pulled him forwards.

He remembers Rebecca yelling at him for breaking his promise not to frighten her again.

He remembers the small, smug smile on his rival's face on the day Kaiba defeated him in one last duel. Fought with two decks which had been locked away in a glass case for forty years. They were sitting quietly together, he recalls, the only two left out of long gone friends, on a veranda outside of the manor. No boasting. Just an outstretched hand and a calm congratulations. Yugi can feel the pharaoh there, too, sharing the handshake.

He remembers the feeling of comfort yet again, when she was no longer able to keep a promise of her own. Eighty two years old and dead from cancer without ever having known about it. He remembers how quietly explaining what that condition was to the spirit of the Millennium Puzzle, had made Yugi feel just the slightest bit better, he remembers the pharaoh promising to take care of her.

And then he remembers the last time when, as hard as he tried, Yami was not quite able –nor willing– to push Yugi back and instead decided to pull him forwards, knowing it was over and that it was time to come home.

The strongest memory he has, however, is of something quite different to all of that.

It's not a memory of living or dying, really. It's more like… a memory of something in between. It's the memory of a promise made when he solved the Millennium Puzzle. It's the memory of a wish for friends who would never betray him.

To this day they never had. And the one who had has already been forgiven more times than Yugi can count.

He always will be, for as long as Yugi remembers him.

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**In Anna's words, I'm getting a little tired, myself, of all the fanfics where Yugi basically lapses into depression without Yami. Does anyone seem to remember that his attitude at the end of the series was basically "sure it hurts that he's gone but if he's happy, I can be happy too". At least the dubbed fandom writers have an excuse here, of course but still… seriously, Yugi can survive without the pharaoh, okay? **


End file.
